


Event Horizon

by helens78



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-02
Updated: 2003-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Obi-Wan finally tracks down Bail, secrets are finally revealed, and the two of them find some quiet time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Event Horizon

I would have gone anywhere with T'nell tonight, even clubbing, had he insisted. I'm relieved he only wanted to go out to dinner. But anywhere would be better than sitting in my quarters waiting for Qui to come home.

I waited up for him last night. That's a first. I waited all night, until the sun came up and I realized I was about to be late for class. I couldn't even meditate. I just sat, and breathed, and waited.

I wonder where he was last night.

The memory has been at the edge of my consciousness every moment. I try to let it ebb, wash away from me, without latching onto it too much. I can't think about it now. I have to talk to Qui. I'm more horrified by the look he had in his eyes just before he left than I am by what happened. It took me a while to remember, but I _have_ seen him that dark before. In the fresher. I responded then. Fuck, I responded last night, despite everything. I never knew what that dark look on his face meant. I still don't. And from that panicked look in his eyes, I suspect he doesn't, either. I have to talk to him.

I let the thoughts ebb again. T'nell has been very gentle with me tonight. I'm out with a good friend, and we're going to dinner. That's all.

The taxi lets us out, and the burgundy awning is familiar. I feel a sharp ache in my chest as I realize where we are.

Balikk's. Oh, for fuck's sake, T'nell. No, don't snap at him; not his fault. He doesn't even know about Gana. Doesn't know how often I've been here, looking for him, hoping he's left a message. Doesn't know I gave up on Gana weeks ago, when the look on the hostess's face became too much for me to take. He's never here. He's not coming back. It's over. Forget about it.

"Something wrong?" T'nell asks.

"No, not at all." The edge in my voice is a little sharper than it needs to be. I steel what little pride I have left and follow T'nell inside.

The hostess looks at T'nell, then glances at me. I'm prepared for the look she's given me every time I've been here since getting back from Ferri Prime.

Only I get a different look tonight. I get an encouraging look. I get a pointed glance into the back of the restaurant. I follow her eyes to the back of the restaurant, but it's dark and I can't see anything. Still... could he actually be here tonight? Now? Suppose he is -- does he even want to see me?

I shouldn't even look. I was starting to get in over my head, and I knew that the last time I saw him. I should let it go. He hasn't returned any of my messages. He doesn't want to see me.

But he's _here_, damn it. And would the hostess have given me that look if she knew he didn't want to see me? Force, Kenobi, _stop this_. Let it go.

I follow T'nell and the hostess to our table, but I stop short of sitting down. I can't let it go. I know I should, but I can't. "Give me a second," I tell T'nell. "I'll be back."

He shooes me with a hand, eyes somewhere else. "Go ahead. No hurry."

No hurry? It's all I can do not to put on a burst of Force-assisted speed to get to the back of the restaurant. Maybe he _was_ trying to brush me off, get rid of me. Maybe there was some legitimate reason he hasn't returned my messages. Maybe he's left messages for me in the last couple weeks, after I'd given up on him. I just have to know. Then I'll leave.

There he is, sitting at a table in a corner with a woman, talking over empty plates and a stack of papers nearly ten centimeters tall. She ruffles through them, and he points out phrases while scanning pages.

Force, he looks good. He's in another one of those tailored jackets, this one red, with a red shirt, a red tie, all made of different fabrics so the color seems to be slightly different shades. His hair is falling slightly over his forehead, and he reaches over to sweep it back into place. I'm envious of that hand, those fingers; I want to touch him, to get his hair back into its perfect style.

For a split-second, I think about leaving. I think about turning on my heel and going back to T'nell. If Gana was trying to blow me off, let him. If he wasn't, then my obsessing is going to start all over again, and I _know_ this isn't healthy. Every step I take now is one I'm going to pay for later. But I'm taking them anyway. I'd like to think I could leave without saying anything, but I know it's not true. I walk over to his table and clear my throat.

He looks up at me. His eyes, those remarkable brown eyes that have kept me up nights, lock on mine. His expression is shocked, completely unguarded, and I see all kinds of different emotions in those eyes of his: shock, disbelief, pleasure, recognition, relief....

"Hello, Gana."

He's struck speechless. His mouth opens a bit, as if he wants to say something but has forgotten what language is for.

I'm in no hurry to speak, either. The look on his face has obliterated any doubts I had, any fear that he might not want me to be here. Looking at him is plenty. I could stay here for the next hour and never miss the time.

"Bail?" the woman next to him asks.

He breaks the look we're sharing to swivel back to her, stammering slightly. "Larian, I...."

"Would you care to introduce me?" she asks. Her voice is sweet, her tone intrigued. Not jealous. The papers were a good hint, of course, but she's obviously not his date. My smile is growing broader. My heartbeat must be getting louder every second.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Larian, this is Jedi Padawan Ben...." He stumbles, realizing he doesn't know my last name. Or my real name, for that matter. "Ben, this is Larian Destry, my assistant."

Larian stretches a hand forward, and I clasp it. Assistant? What kind of assistant? And what did she call him? Bail? So his real name is one of the most common human male names in the Republic -- that's interesting. I wonder where he came up with "Gana."

Larian's handshake is firm and polite, but hers isn't the hand I want to be touching right now. I glance down at Gana, and he reaches out for me. I slip my hand into his. I stop breathing. I've been waiting for this moment for more than two months. It wouldn't seem like much to anyone else in this room, but it means the world to me. He squeezes my fingers, and I squeeze back.

Larian is polite enough not to look at our joined hands. Maybe she doesn't notice. "It's a pleasure, Ser Jedi," she says.

"Yes, thank you." I almost wince at that; my manners are usually in much better shape. Gana is horribly, wonderfully distracting. I can barely take my eyes off him. It seems he's having the same problem.

"Larian, would you excuse us for a moment?" Gana asks.

"Of course."

Gana stands up, and I have to take a step back to avoid having him step directly into me. I make it a small step. He brushes against me as he gets up, and I have the presence of mind not to take him into my arms and kiss the breath from him. I have the presence of mind for little else. He looks at me and pulls me into a dark corner of the restaurant, between the dining room and the kitchen, away from any wandering eyes.

He looks like he wants to say so many things, and so do I, but once we're alone, it seems like the most important thing to do is wrap my arms around him so I can just stand here and hold him. I open my arms, and he glides into me, arms wrapped around me, face brushing against mine, both of us seeking the other's lips and getting a bit tangled up in the process. We both smile as we get our faces lined up properly, and then his mouth is on mine. He tastes of wine and pepper. He's been in my dreams so long I'd forgotten what the reality of kissing him felt like.

I don't know how long we spend kissing in this corner, how long we're lost in the finding of each other, but when he pulls away, I let him. He doesn't try to go far, just far enough to breathe and laugh. I laugh, too, unable to hide how giddy I feel.

He regains his ability to speak first. "Months of poise, composure, and affected disinterest, all gone to waste. I've really missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

I lean forward to brush my lips against his, just briefly, because I can't stand to be this close to him without tasting him. He matches me, and our lips touch, just our lips this time. I feel light enough to float. I may be floating. I look down at the ground. No, my feet are still firmly planted on the floor, even if only literally.

"You didn't return my messages," he accuses. "I assumed you'd given up on me."

"After the way you disappeared, I had."

He curses softly and rests his head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I was called away. I should have tried harder to get a message to you before I left. I never had the privacy to call once I got to Alderaan."

"When did you get back?"

"Two weeks ago. I did leave a message this time. More than one. But I never heard from you."

More than one in two weeks! I'm glowing. He's pouting.

"You don't have to look so pleased about it."

"Yes, I do. I deserve it." I steal one more kiss. "You don't know how many times I came here looking for you."

Now he smiles. "Actually, I do. That's one reason I was so indignant when you didn't come running as soon as I reached Coruscant. You aren't supposed to lose interest until _after_ I've given in and slept with you." He squeezes me tight, and I feel a definite nudging against my stomach. "We never even got our clothes off."

My mind is reeling at the idea of sleeping with Gana. "So you've decided to bend the never-fuck-Jedi rule?"

"Possibly." He's smirking at me. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Going home with you."

"I thought so."

One more kiss, one that stretches time again. I don't want to pull away from him, but I should probably tell T'nell I'm leaving.

"Will you wait for me? I need to take care of something."

He narrows his eyes at me. "You're here with a date?"

"No, just a friend," I answer, realizing too late that I could have said yes and seen what he looks like when he's jealous. But do I really want to play that kind of game with Gana? No. I just want to be with him, be close to him -- fuck, I'm happy just being in the same room with him.

He's almost as reluctant to let me go as I am to leave him, but he nods at me. "Let me tell Larian I'm leaving, and then we'll get out of here."

"What sort of assistant is Larian, anyway?" I ask.

He grins. "I'll tell you later."

I'd take one more kiss, but then we'd never get out of the restaurant. I can't resist the urge to trail my fingers over his face before I go, though. "I'll hold you to that," I tell him. "I'll meet you outside."

I head back over to T'nell. He says, "That took long enough," but then I cut him off.

"T'nell, I'm really sorry, but I have to go."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "Now? But we just got here."

"Yes, well... something came up." I lean over to kiss his cheek. "Thanks for taking me out tonight, T'nell. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"You'll have to show me later," he teases. I wink at him. "Are you going to be back tonight?"

"Force, I hope not," I say, thinking of the way Gana agreed to take me home with him without arguing, thinking of Gana waiting outside for a taxi. No, I definitely don't want to go home tonight.

"Should I say something to Master Jinn, if I see him?"

And there's the other reason I don't want to go home tonight. For a moment, I'd almost forgotten. It doesn't seem as important right now as it did last night. Whatever's wrong between me and Qui, we can fix it. I can make up for whatever I've done to hurt him; I can forgive him for whatever he's done to me. I _know_ he didn't mean to do what he did last night; I just have to be sure he knows it, too, and be certain it will never happen again. We really should talk when I get back. Maybe T'nell can pass him a message for me.

"Yes, if you would. Tell him I'm not angry with him."

He nods. "It won't be the same coming from me, but if I do see him, I'll let him know."

"Thank you."

He gives me a thoughtful look. "Did you meet someone while you were gone?" he asks.

I have to smile at that. I suppose it must be obvious. "Possibly."

"Are you going to introduce me?" He cranes his head around, and I hope Gana has made it out of the restaurant; I don't want to share him with T'nell. It occurs to me that I've never had any problem sharing anyone else with T'nell, not even Qui. But then, I've never had to wait this long for anyone else. I want to have Gana's undivided attention tonight.

I shake my head. "Maybe next time. Good night, T'nell."

I leave the restaurant, and Gana is waiting for me. I feel a slight thrill run through me. I wasn't sure -- even after those kisses, the way he said he'd missed me, I was still afraid I'd come out here and he'd be gone again.

A taxi comes up to the landing pad, and he opens the door for me. "Such a gentleman," I tease.

"As gentle as you want it," he returns. He climbs in and shuts the door. "Psarlit Tower on 104th and 5th, third landing deck," he tells the driver. That's an area of Coruscant so ritzy I've never even been there. I'm not surprised, somehow.

I try to pull him close for another kiss, but he evades, turning his head so all I can kiss is his ear. He puts a hand on my knee. "Try to be patient," he murmurs.

"I'm not feeling patient."

He turns, still evading my lips, and leaves kisses in a path from my cheek to my ear. "If I kiss you again, I won't stop. Wait until we're home."

I run my hand through his hair. "All right. I can wait. We can talk." I smile, thinking of all the things I've wanted to say to him. One comes to mind first. "I haven't told you my name. My real name."

"It isn't Ben?"

"It's Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"_Obi_-Wan Ken_obi_," he repeats, rolling the syllables off his tongue, accenting them as if my name is a playground chant. He shakes his head a bit, grinning at me. "Do you mind if I prefer 'Ben'?"

I laugh. He could call me anything he wants, and I'd probably like it. "You can keep calling me Ben if you tell me _your_ real name."

"Ah." He nuzzles the underside of my jaw. Force, he catches on fast. I shiver and reach out for him, pulling him closer. "I've waited so long to be able to...."

"You're trying to distract me. I caught Larian saying your name was Bail. What's your full name?"

He sighs. "Bail Organa," he says. Ah ha -- Or_gana_. I get it. I'm smiling now, but he seems tense in my arms.

"It's not nearly as bad as Obi-Wan Kenobi," I tease, wondering why he's tense. He looks up at me and frowns.

"You haven't heard of me?"

"Should I have?" This earns me a kiss on the forehead. I smile.

"Yes, but I'll forgive you for now. I'm the junior senator from Alderaan."

That explains why I haven't heard of him. "I do my best to ignore politics unless I need to study them for a mission."

"I'd gathered that. I don't mind." His smile is devastating. "That, incidentally, is why I have an assistant."

It shouldn't mean so much to me, but I'm still glad she wasn't his date, glad he wasn't even flirting with her. I've seen enough of my friends with women lately; I would probably have broken down if Gana -- Bail? -- had been out on a date with a woman. Then again, I might have broken down if he'd been out with another man. I feel my heart pounding a bit as I realize what I'm feeling. I think it might be jealousy. Real jealousy, not just a half-assed version that makes me want to prove myself to someone. I don't want to think of him with someone else. What the hell...? Since when do I get _jealous_ over _anyone_?

I can't think about that now. I haven't seen Gana -- Bail -- with anyone else. And even if I did, it shouldn't matter. No attachments, right? This isn't even a friendship yet. Then what? Sex? Is that where all this is going? Force, I hope so, but if all I wanted was sex, I didn't have to go home with Bail.

So what the hell am I doing here? Is there an answer for that?

I want to feel his name on my tongue, so I give it a whirl. "Bail Organa." Nice. "I like it. Do you prefer Bail to Gana?"

"Normally." He traces a finger along my jaw from my ear to my chin, resting the tip of his finger in the cleft there. "You're far too attractive for my own good. I really shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not? Am I going to ruin your reputation?" He hesitates, drawing his lower lip into his mouth and biting down on it. He lets me go. I lean forward to flick my tongue across his lips. "Would you like your reputation ruined?"

He sits back a bit, sizing me up with his eyes, not smiling as much now. "How old are you?"

I must have hit a sensitive spot. "Twenty standard years."

"And how long will it be until you're knighted?"

"I'm not certain. At least another three years. Probably more like seven." A terrible thought occurs to me. "You aren't going to suggest we stop seeing each other until I'm knighted, are you?"

He laughs and draws me back into his arms, kissing me lightly on the forehead, nose, chin. "This would be far less complicated for me if you were knighted already. But no, I'm not going to suggest that. I don't have that much willpower."

"Oh, good."

His grip tightens a bit. "But don't think I'm weak-willed. I'm not. I'm here because I want to be, not because I can't resist you. You use one of your mind tricks on me, you even try, and you'll never see me again."

My gut twists in horror that he'd even suspect such a thing. "Gana -- Bail -- I wouldn't -- that isn't what I'm doing here."

"And what _are_ you doing here?" he asks. He brushes his lips over mine, teasing. "You don't need to follow me home to get laid. I've seen you at those clubs."

He's starting to make me uncomfortable, and his kisses are making me dizzy. I push away and try to catch my breath. "Stop."

He takes my hand and lifts it to his lips. "Stop what?"

"Wait."

"Now you want me to wait?" He kisses each of my fingertips and then draws one of my fingers into his mouth, biting the pad lightly before pulling me in deeper and sucking hard. Oh, Force, he's going to be good.

I have to reach between my legs to adjust myself. "No," I admit. He grins and lets my hand drop away from his mouth, reaching over to put one of his hands on my cock. I moan, trying to stifle it so the cab driver won't get too much of an earful. "Bail, no, I'm...."

"We're almost home. Hold on."

He holds on, too, holding, squeezing, touching. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. This is all going so fast, and I've been waiting for this for so long, but I'm not sure I want him this way. It almost kills me, but I reach down and pull his hand away from me. He's startled. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"For one thing, I'm too close. For another, this is too fast."

"Too fast?" He laughs. "This coming from a man who's fucked people he's known for twenty seconds?"

"Can we talk first? I've missed you. I missed just being able to talk to someone who didn't babble or ask to see my lightsaber." I remember Violet Eyes from last night and almost groan. "I want to know what you've been doing."

He threads his fingers through mine and pouts at me, curling his lower lip slightly in a way that makes me want to suck that lip into my mouth and nibble on it. "Do you mean before or after you stood me up? What kept you away that first night?"

"I left a message."

"Oh, yes. 'On a mission, won't be back in time. How about two weeks from now?' I was terribly disappointed. You could at least have told me you were saving a world. I might have accepted being blown off for a mission of epic importance."

"I did _not_ blow you off," I tell him, a bit irked. "It was a boring diplomatic mission to Ferri Prime, one involving a great deal of talking and negotiation and going back and forth. I was little more than my master's errand boy. We should have been home in time, but the negotiations were so hard-fought that when everyone had agreed to terms, the people of Ferri Prime wanted to throw a week-long celebration. My master agreed to stay for the ceremonies without bothering to ask my opinion."

"One of the drawbacks of having responsibility without authority." He caresses my cheek with his free hand, looking as if he understands. Junior senator... maybe he does. "Did you at least enjoy yourself while you were there?"

I look away, thinking of the way I'd sulked and refused to allow Qui to touch me at the end of it. "Not terribly," I am forced to admit. I look back at him. "And you? What kept you from so much as leaving a message?"

"A political emergency back on Alderaan. A group of radical--" He pauses. "Do you care? It's politics."

I almost don't want to know, don't want to hear about his life as a politician. "I still don't understand how that kept you from sending a message for, what, five weeks?"

"Almost six," he admits, and I smirk a little, realizing he was counting the days, too. "I was never given any privacy on Alderaan. There were people watching me all the time. And a message from Alderaan to Coruscant passes through more checkpoints than I was willing to risk. A message to a restaurant under a false name would have looked suspicious. People might have noticed."

I'm not sure whether to be relieved he gave this so much thought or hurt that, when weighed against appearances, I lost. "I see," I tell him.

"You probably don't," he fires back, but then his voice softens. "I am sorry."

"It's all right."

"I thought about you."

"Did you?"

"Once or twice." His mouth twists. "Every day."

The taxi comes to a stop before I can tell him how often I've thought of him since we last saw each other. We get out, and Ga--Bail pays for the ride. It's going to take some practice before I can remember to call him Bail.

His apartment is on the top floor, and the elevator ride is a long one. I'm tempted to reach over and press him into the wall, but he stands a deliberate step away from me as we ascend. I close that distance, at least, and reach for his hand again. He gives it to me and looks down. He isn't much taller than me, but it's enough that I have to look up to meet his eyes. He's smiling now. Oh, I'm lost.

The elevator comes to a stop, and he guides me to his apartment, palming the plate by the door. The door opens, and we walk inside.

One entire wall of the apartment is glass, and with it being so dark in here, I can see the speeders zipping past in the night. The room glows and flashes with the lights from speeders and traffic lanes, and I'm awestruck by the moving colors, surprised at how beautiful I find it. I have been to dozens of planets. I've never thought Coruscant was particularly beautiful. But the lights are flickering in the distance; the buildings are lit from within. Coruscant's gardens may be carefully-cultivated in rooms with artificial sunlight, but this, the lights, the stars, the outlines of buildings against the blackness -- this is beautiful, too.

Bail comes up to me from behind and presses the entire length of his body to my back. He reaches around my chest and holds me, resting his head on my shoulder. He takes a few deep breaths. I reach up and stroke his arms with my fingertips, breathing with him, watching the lights. We stand there for several minutes, just breathing together. I feel light and yet grounded, dizzy and yet steadier than I've been in weeks. I could stay like this all night. I could stay like this for days.

"You look spectacular in green," he murmurs. "It's good to see you out of the clubs."

I'll definitely have to thank T'nell later. I didn't really want to let him pick out my clothes, but if they're earning me compliments from Bail, it was worth it.

"I think I like you better this way," Bail tells me. "You don't seem as predatory as you have before."

"Don't like being prey?" I ask.

He kisses my cheek. "I don't like watching you hunt."

I grin at that. He _has_ been jealous. It makes me feel better about not wanting to share him with T'nell, about being relieved that Larian was his assistant and not his date. Maybe this isn't such an unusual feeling after all. I turn my head so he can kiss me without having to let me go. The flashing lights outside the windows have nothing on Bail's kisses; he makes me feel as if I'm flying, falling, being caught. I've never been kissed like this before, as if we could just spend all night standing in the middle of this room kissing. I've never really wanted to bother, since the good parts happen below the waist anyway. I've been underestimating the benefit of foreplay. This is more intense than some of the fucks I've had.

After a few minutes, though, my neck starts to ache, and I have to turn around. I look out the window again, and feel his arms tighten around me, feel his erection pressing into me. I just breathe. That's more than enough.

He turns his head a little to capture my earlobe with his teeth. He bites gently and then lets go. "Can I get you something? A drink?"

I can't help smiling. "Brandy?" I ask.

He laughs. "Of course. Go sit down. I'll join you in a minute. Take off your shoes, if you like. Get comfortable." His hands linger on me even as he pulls away. I look around his apartment. This first room has a dining area in the foreground and a nice seating area with several couches and armchairs closer to the windows, as well as an artificial fireplace set in the wall near the seating area. You could fit two of the apartments I share with Qui in this room alone, which makes me wonder how big the rest of his place is. He disappears through a door made of real darkwood as I head for the seating area. I take my shoes off and tuck them under the coffee table.

Bail returns with a bottle and two glasses, and sits down next to me, kicking off his shoes as he does. He pours brandy for both of us, but I'm not really interested in the brandy anymore. I turn to him and pull him close to me. He kisses me for a moment before stretching out lengthwise on the couch and tugging me down in front of him, so I'm spooned against him. He drops an arm over my chest, and after a quick struggle to figure out where to put the arms we're lying on, we get our limbs in order and are able to relax again.

"Should I have lit the fire, do you think?" he asks.

"What for?"

He laughs and squeezes me. "Atmosphere?"

I've really only used fireplaces for warmth, so I'm not entirely sure what he means, but I shrug. "If you like."

He lifts his head so his lips aren't directly at my ear and calls out "Flame on, windows off." The windows snap into an opaque black mode, and now the only light in the room is coming from flickering blue and orange flames. He sighs and wiggles a little behind me, getting more comfortable. He's pressing into me, and I'm hard, I've been hard since the taxi. I moan. He laughs.

"Are you aching yet?" he asks.

"A bit," I admit, "but I don't mind. And you?"

"Oh, I think I can handle it," he tells me. I crane my neck around to see him grinning wickedly. "Would you like me to handle it for you, too?"

"Tease."

"Never." He pauses. "Almost never."

We both laugh. He runs his fingertips up and down my chest, catching lightly on the buttons. He presses another kiss to the side of my neck, and I let my eyes close. His lips have been soft and gentle all night long, like he'd said in the taxi -- as gentle as I want it. I do want it gentle tonight. I want to be held, caressed... I want to take my time with him. He moves my braid out of the way to kiss a path to my shoulder, and I smile. So many people can't resist tugging on it, or at least playing with it, myself included, really. It's nice to see it isn't a fetish with him. The last thing I want is to feel like I'm fulfilling someone's sordid Jedi fantasies. With Bail, I feel like _I_ am the fantasy, and that is achingly arousing. I shift against him, pressing his cock into me a little harder.

"I want... will you touch me?" I ask him. Now I do want that, I want him to wrap his hand around me and stroke me through the fabric of my pants. T'nell is a fucking genius when it comes to clothing. I owe him something very special for picking out pants made of such soft, clinging material, for picking out a shirt that buttons down the front. Bail raises a hand to the neck of my shirt and undoes one button, slipping his fingers inside to brush against the top of my chest. I shiver and have to close my eyes.

He rolls me onto my back and lies on top of me, taking my breath away with the feel of his weight on my body. He captures my mouth for another kiss, another long, slow kiss that makes me twine my arms and legs around him and hold him as close as I can get him. He pulls back and looks into my eyes.

"I meant it. What I said that first night. I don't fuck Jedi."

I don't know what he's talking about. Jedi? Oh, he means me. I frown a little, hoping he doesn't mean he's going to stop now. He kisses the line between my eyebrows, then comes up a little further and kisses the mole on my forehead. I have to smile, but he isn't smiling when he pulls back and looks at me again.

"I want you."

"It bothers you that much to want a Jedi?" I ask. That stings. I try to joke a bit, to lighten the mood. "If it makes you feel any better, I've never gone home with a politician."

"If I asked you to leave now, would you go?"

The idea hurts so much I can't hide it. He takes in the expression on my face with a sort of detached determination, and I feel terribly unbalanced. I am not even remotely detached. I've been pushing aside all the nagging thoughts about how I shouldn't be here, how this is not anonymous, nothing like what I get from the clubs. It's not even how I feel when I'm with someone I care about. I close my eyes and center. It takes more than one try, but I manage it. The hurt ebbs, and I can look up at him again.

"If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

His eyes are sharp on mine. "Why are you here?" he asks.

Force, Bail, I can barely think. Why are you asking such difficult questions?

No, it's worse than that. Why are these questions so difficult?

"Because I can't get you out of my mind. Because I don't want to get you out of my mind."

He leans down and kisses me again. I wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls back for a moment. "I don't want you to go," he whispers.

I don't know how long we spend kissing. It seems like hours, but maybe it's only a few minutes. It never seems like enough. He finally pulls away from me long enough to loosen his tie. I help him pull it off and slide it out of his collar, and he tosses it aside. I undo the first button on his shirt. Just one, for now. I press my lips to the tiny patch of skin revealed there.

He laughs and runs fingers through my hair, kissing the top of my head and stopping me from getting lost in the newness of this one patch of skin. "Can you wait a minute? I've got something I want to share with you."

"I'm not in a hurry," I whisper. He climbs off me and helps me to my feet. We're both a little unsteady -- I wonder if his head is as clouded as mine is. He takes me by the hand and leads me through a door in the right rear half of the room. It's the door to his bedroom. Outside the bedroom is a balcony, and I can see the flashing lights of the traffic again. He pushes a button and the doors slide open. We walk outside.

Out here it's noisy, and the wind is brisk this high up. His hair musses instantly as the wind takes hold of his curls and knocks them out of place, but he doesn't seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn't care. He walks to the railing with me and stands behind me, body pressing against mine, his hands on mine on the railing. He's barely whispering, but I can hear every word.

"The world is changing every day. Everything is always in motion. I've learned to roll with the changes, to figure out how to turn them to my best advantage, how to turn my advantages into advantages for my planet, for the galaxy." He pauses. "I can't roll with you."

My eyes close. "I know," I whisper. My words are lost in the wind. I don't know if he catches them or not.

He nuzzles my cheek, just a little, and continues. "Can you see the future? I can't. I've been able to see it all my life, since I was a child, and now it's uncertain. I worry, sometimes, that the galaxy will change too fast for me to keep up." His arms tighten on me. He breathes out. Breathes in. Laughs a little. "I've never told anyone that before."

I turn around, and he kisses me. This time I feel something more, something urgent building up in me. I don't know if it started with him or if it started with me, but he matches my new feeling of need, matches me kiss for kiss until we're both gasping and beginning to pull at each other's clothes. He is deft, too deft, and he has my shirt unbuttoned while I'm still struggling with the third button on his. He tugs my shirt over my shoulders and only realizes he forgot my cuffs when my hands get stuck in my sleeves. I laugh and yank my hands free, and my shirt is gone, taken away by the breeze. I whip my head around, stunned but amused, and he takes me in his arms, pressing my bare skin against him. I should feel cold, but I don't. He brings my arms up around his neck and holds me around my waist, bending me backward, just a little, until I feel the railing against my hips. If I were anyone else, if I weren't Jedi, this might give me a sense of vertigo. I know I'm safe, though; know I can hold us both here, secure, even if I am unbalanced. I hold on tight, but he holds on tighter.

He lets me take his shirt off, and I remember his cuffs, but when I get to them I can't figure out how to undo them. He has to unsnap covers from the buttons first and then slip the buttons free. He tucks the covers into his pocket and lets me pull his shirt off him, but he grabs it before I let it go flying off the building. I laugh at him.

"It's cold out here," he tells me. "Want to go back inside?"

"Lead the way."

He does, leading me to his bed. I climb on top of him this time, putting my mouth to all this beautiful bare skin. I'm almost nervous about what he's doing to me. I want him to do it. I don't want to be safe and detached and serene. I want to be swept away by feeling instead of staying centered. But I also know it should scare me, and I don't want to think about that.

"More," I tell him, sliding down his torso to get his pants off him. I tug them over his hips, take the silk with them, let him help me. I look up, and his eyes have never looked so dark. His lips are parted slightly, and his breathing is fast and erratic. It makes me grin. I come forward and put my mouth on his cock, and he throws his head back and gasps as I take him in. I want to please him. I want that more than I've wanted anything in my life. His hips are rocking, gently at first, then harder, until he finally bites down on a groan and comes for me, pulsing into my mouth. I swallow and crawl back up the bed, lying next to him. He pulls me into his arms. His eyes are closed, and he's smiling.

Force, he's beautiful.

I run my fingers through his hair, gently drawing it back into shape, erasing the marks the wind left. He's humming a little with each exhalation, and I put my hand on his chest so I can feel his heart beat. I get my breathing into rhythm with his. I could stay like this forever. I lay my head on the pillow next to his, and listen to him breathe.

It's some time before he's ready to speak again. He mumbles something I don't catch, then blinks a few times before narrowing his eyes and focusing on me. "Ben," he murmurs. He leans forward and kisses me.

_I missed you._ I want to say it, but I have to hold onto the words, fearing what they'd mean if I said them now. "Feeling good?" I ask him instead.

"Just being here with you makes me feel good." He stretches and turns over so his knee rests on my legs. He runs a hand down my chest and teases the curls there. "I didn't realize Jedi had chest hair."

I laugh at him. "You probably epilate yours." His chest is bare and golden. I lean down to flick my tongue over one of his nipples. They're a color somewhere between tan and brown. He jumps at the touch, but doesn't turn away. I come back up to kiss his neck. He sighs.

"No, I'm just not gifted that way." He slides his hand down my chest to reach for my belt. "I think I dozed."

"A bit."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I kiss his jaw and smile. "You were glowing."

"I imagine so." His hand has managed to undo my belt and unzip my pants. "Would you like to glow?"

I can't even answer. He turns me on my back and slips the rest of my clothes off. I shift, pulling my braid out from under my back and letting it trail down my chest. I play with the end of it a bit. I really don't mean to, but for some reason, I'm nervous. I want him to like me. I want him to like this.

He rubs his face against my chest and sighs happily. "I adore chest hair," he murmurs. He trails kisses down my chest to my stomach and lower, pressing his face between my legs and letting out a warm breath, very warm, on the crease of my thigh. He kisses the base of my cock, and I rise up on my elbows to watch him. "I adore this, too." He looks up at me while he puts his tongue at the base of my cock and licks all the way up to the tip in one long, slow stroke. I groan. I can't take my eyes off him. He's beautiful, and I keep hearing him saying _I adore this, too._ I was close already. I'm nearly vibrating now.

He takes his time, working me slowly, licking every inch of me and getting me well and truly wet before he finally, _oh, Force_, takes me in his mouth. He looks up as his mouth slides down on me, and I pant, not wanting to close my eyes even though they're threatening to roll back in my head. I've never seen anything so perfect in my life. I feel his lips tighten on me and see the corners of his mouth tip up just a fraction, and realize he knows exactly how I feel. He wanted me to see him like this, wanted me to feel this way.

"Bail," I whisper. My fantasies have always had me saying "Gana" at this moment, but I like knowing his real name, like how he responds when I say it. He lowers his eyes again and takes me as deep as he can, and I hold my breath, trying desperately to hold back, not wanting this to end. He senses it, and takes his mouth off me. I whimper, and he grins at me. He crawls up my body, straddling my legs, and kisses me. I pull him down to me, so close I can almost feel myself in him, can almost feel as if we're sharing the same skin. He pulls away and puts his forehead to mine. I feel his erection pressing against my stomach, and reach down for it, curling my hand around it and tugging gently. He moans for me.

"I'd like more," he says, gasping a little. "Would you like to...." He presses his ass into my groin, and his intention is unmistakable -- as is my reaction. He laughs and rolls off me to grope in the drawer of his nightstand, and comes back with lube and a barrier packet. He opens the packet and slips the unlubricated barrier into his mouth. I raise my eyebrows at him, but as soon as he climbs back down my body to take my cock in his mouth again, I know what he's going to do. He slides his mouth down my cock, sucking gently, and the barrier goes on. How the hell did he do that? I'm going to have to figure that one out. Maybe he'll let me practice on him. He grins at the expression on my face and comes up, taking a moment to prepare himself and then sliding a hand slicked with lube over me. I can't feel the slickness, but I do feel the pressure of his hand. I bite my lower lip and mentally count to ten in Huttese. He looks up at me. "Ready?" he asks.

"Too ready," I pant. "I don't think I can last."

"It's all right."

He kneels, straddling me, and slides himself onto me. I tilt my hips up to get as deep as I can, and he leans forward, pressing his body to mine and kissing me. Oh, Force. Perfect. I can't imagine feeling better than this.

Of course, it _does_ get better, very quickly, as he moves on me, very sure of himself now, squeezing me, long strokes, hard, until the gentleness ends and we're both straining against each other, his hand between us, stroking himself, my hands on his hips, rocking him against me... I am so close I can't keep my eyes open. I squeeze my eyes shut and then I'm crying out, pushing into him as hard as I can, feeling him clench me, waiting, gasping, falling, floating. I have a few seconds to gather myself as he keeps stroking himself, his panting becoming guttural, gasps turning to grunts. I blink my eyes open and reach up for him, and he lets me take his cock in my hand and curls his hand over mine. A few more short, fast strokes and he's coming on me, on my stomach. It's good, it's very good, I wanted this, wanted to feel him spilling his pleasure onto me, and now he has, and now he's gasping, his eyes squeezed shut. He holds my hand still, doesn't let me move or let him go yet. I've gone soft, and I slip out of him, making him gasp again.

He finally opens his eyes. "Oh, I've gotten you all sticky."

"I don't mind."

He smiles. "Stay right here. I'll be back."

He disappears through the door to his fresher, and I stretch out my arms and legs, closing my eyes. I feel ridiculously, giddily happy. It must be the endorphins. He returns a few moments later, and I feel a warm washcloth cleaning my stomach, then going lower. He removes the barrier from my cock and cleans me there, too. He strokes a little longer than is strictly needed for cleanup, and I finally open my eyes to look up at him.

I am _never_ going to get tired of seeing him smile. I don't see how I could.

He disappears back into the fresher, then comes back to bed and curls up to me. He nestles himself in my side, one leg over mine, one hand on my chest, fingers playing idly with my chest hair. The contentment between us makes the room seem warmer than it already is, and I feel his eyelashes flutter over my chest as he closes his eyes.

"Going to sleep?" I ask.

"Mmm."

"Don't you even want to get under the covers?"

"But then I'd have to move."

"I'll help."

He lets out a long-suffering sigh, but acquiesces. We move under the covers. His sheets are a red, silky material, softer than anything I've felt anywhere but on missions to planets that make a point of giving their best rooms to the Jedi who visit them. This is where he sleeps every night. How does he get out of bed in the morning?

Now what? I've never gone home with someone before. I've never stayed long enough to hold someone -- not unless you count missions with Qui where we were given only one bed. Do I stay? Do I go? If he wants me to leave, will he say so?

"I have a meeting at breakfast tomorrow," he tells me. He already sounds like he's drifting off to sleep. "The alarm will go off around six hundred. Will that bother you?"

My breath catches in my chest. He expects me to be here in the morning. He's asking me to stay.

"It won't bother me," I tell him. He snuggles in closer, and drifts off to sleep.

_-end-_


End file.
